Take It Slow
by SmurfLuvsCookies
Summary: Aries was never much of a party girl. She didn't like loud music, she didn't like crowds; but most of all, she didn't like dancing. One-shot. Requested by and dedicated to Amozon28.


_**Author's Note:** Hello! So this was a request from Amozon28, who wanted something sweet for Loke and Aries. And since I absolutely adore these two, I was more than happy to oblige with a little inspiration. _**Yes, there are some references to abuse here**_. Take it as you will._

_Disclaimer: Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima. I am not Hiro Mashima._

* * *

**Take It Slow  
**by SmurfLuvsCookies  
Dedicated to Amozon28

Aries was never much of a party girl. She knew that, by definition, parties were places where people got together and had a good time, but she'd never found the joy in it that everyone else seemed to. She'd nod and smile and even laugh at their merriment, but it wasn't especially sincere. Maybe it was the loud music and the way she had to yell conversations, or the suffocating closeness of everyone around her. Perhaps it was the writhing bodies on the dance floor, twisting around each other intimately in time with the pulse of that dreadful, loud music.

Whatever it was about parties, Aries didn't really like them. Nevertheless, someone always convinced her to go. Usually Aquarius. It was hard to say no to Aquarius.

Celestial Spirits didn't ever really _need_ a reason to party. Most of them just decided that they were in a good mood and wanted to share it with the others. Today the party-thrower was Scorpio, so naturally Aquarius made sure everyone would be there. When Scorpio wanted a party, he got one, and it was always the biggest, noisiest, most reckless party imaginable. Music blasted from every corner of the room, Lyra grinning from ear to ear as she played record after record. Spirits surrounded her begging for requests, but she usually just played whatever she wanted. Those who weren't at the disc jockey or gorging themselves at the buffet that Virgo maintained with a militant ferocity were on the illuminated dance floor, throwing their arms and legs around, shaking their hips, tossing their heads. Sagittarius was leading a conga line, and Gemini was crowd-surfing with delighted abandon.

Aries heaved a sigh, looking down at her quivering glass of punch. It was a deep, cough-syrup red. Earlier Taurus had knocked into her and spilled a little on her wool dress, leaving a small scarlet stain on the hem.

"Be careful with that," shouted a voice beside her. Aries looked up and saw Leo—Loke, now, she reminded herself—slide up beside her. He stuck out his tongue, dyed strawberry red by the punch. "It stains."

"I know," said Aries, twisting to show him her dress. "Taurus already demonstrated."

Loke frowned and cupped his ear. "What?"

Aries sighed again, and scooted closer so Loke could hear her explanation. He exclaimed, "Oh!" and nodded, smiling amicably. Even in the dimness of the party he wore his sunglasses, so Aries couldn't tell where he was looking, but he was facing the dance floor, watching the bodies with an interest Aries couldn't bring herself to express. She scooted back to her original spot, clutching at the punch with both hands.

Loke noticed and leaned against the wall beside her, hands in his pockets. He stooped down so he wouldn't have to yell. "You don't look like you're having a very good time."

"I am!" Aries said with false perkiness. But she couldn't elaborate, so Loke raised an eyebrow and glanced once more at the dance floor.

"Won't you come dance with me?" he inquired, offering her a hand. Aries blinked and blushed, shaking her head immediately. Loke drooped. He wasn't used to rejection. "Why not?"

The Ram hunched her shoulders and dropped them down again. "I don't like dancing. I'd rather just stay here, if that's alright. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," Loke said. "I think you'll really enjoy it if you try, though. It's all about your partner, and I'm a pretty decent one, if I do say so myself."

Aries felt her mouth turn up at the corners. Then she looked again at the dance floor, looked at the rough, jostling confines, and shook her head vigorously. "No, no, I don't want to. Please, go enjoy yourself without me."

Loke frowned. His hand returned to its pocket. He stayed against the wall with her for a while, silently contemplating the swarming sea of bodies. For a moment, Aries was almost convinced he'd remain with her the entire party, and she felt a strange mixture of guilt and elation. She even began racking her brain for conversation topics when Loke suddenly pushed himself off the wall, tossed a tiny smirk her way, and disappeared into the crowd without a word.

Aries stared at the spot where he'd vanished, shell-shocked and disheartened. He was itching to get back out there, after all; he was just searching for another prospect. A better one, probably. Loke had most likely only come over out of pity. Spirits were always doing that to her, visiting her and trying to convince the wallflower to join in on the fun. Sometimes Aries was sure they made a game out of it, they dared each other to see who could coax her out. They always gave up once it became clear she was much too quiet, too subtle, too timid for the effort. Eventually they left her alone.

But this was the first time Aries actually _felt_ alone.

Her chest had shrunk two sizes. It was squeezing her lungs and her heart. She could see the crowd whirring all around her in fast-forward and she blinked to catch up, but everything was blurred anyway. Her knees wobbled and she sank into the wall. Aries looked out into the crowd again, but it was all just one big wobbling, intimidating mass. She felt stupid. They were her friends; there wasn't a soul out there she didn't know. Not a stranger among them. She ached to join them, but her feet wouldn't move. This stillness all around her only magnified the sickening feeling of absence. Aries set the punch down on the floor and collapsed beside it. She pulled her knees up to her chest, her hands knotted uselessly around her folded legs.

Logically, Aries knew the reason behind her fear. It was Karin, who had flashed Aries in front of her annoying suitors like a soft, fluffy plaything to distract them. Jilted men tore soft, fluffy playthings to pieces. Persistent men weren't so easily appeased. Karin wasn't happy when they returned, and she blamed Aries for it. She handed her back to them, again and again, until the day she died.

Aries had never told a soul. But Loke knew. It was why he'd done what he did, to protect her. She would never forget the look in his eye when he saw the bruises, when he'd matched his hand to them finger by finger. He didn't ask what had happened. Somehow, he'd just _known_. Aries had dissolved into tears, and he'd held her until she was all dried up. After that, she didn't see him again until for three years, in the battle between Angel and Lucy.

Somehow, this only made his going to find another dance partner hurt more. Maybe he'd expected her to be better by now. Aries was ashamed at her own slow progress. The bruises were long gone, but her mind remained infected and scarred, a perpetually festering sore. She didn't know if it would ever heal.

The swaying bodies jerked to a stop and groans rose up from the crowd when the fast-paced beat evolved into a softer piano riff. Loke popped out from the parting sea, craning his neck to search the walls. He was relieved when he spotted Aries. She gaped up at him as he walked over to her.

"I was worried you left for a second," he laughed. He held out his hand for the second time that night. "Now, will you dance with me?"

"I—I thought you were dancing with s-someone else," Aries stuttered.

Loke smiled. "Why would I go do a thing like that? I don't want to dance with anyone else. Just you. So what do you say?"

Aries blinked a few times and looked over his shoulder. Much of the crowd had evaporated, and those who were left on the dance floor had paired up and were gently rocking side to side in time with the music in perfect isolated couplets, orbiting around and around like planets caught in each other's gravity. She looked back up at Loke's patient face, and at that steadfast hand in front of her. Nodding, she placed her own trembling one in his grip.

He pulled her off the ground and guided her onto the dance floor, which was lit like stars in a velvet sky. Aries looked around at the others, but no one was paying any attention to them. She didn't really know what to do, and Loke could tell; he chuckled, took her hands, and placed them around his neck. Aries jumped when he put his hands on her waist, but he didn't pull her. He kept a respectful distance between them, watching her with a small, careful smile.

They stood like that for a few seconds, while Aries took it in. Then Loke's smile became a full-on grin. He leaned down. "You know, it helps if you move to the music," he whispered next to her ear. His hands nudged her hips, a suggestion more than a command. Aries blushed and took the hint, looking down to watch their feet move on the galaxies.

Loke sighed. Aries could feel his breath in her hair. Slowly, he bridged the narrow gap between them with each shuffle and sway, until he could lace his fingers together behind her back and Aries' nose was brushing the lapel of his suit. She could smell him—it was an intoxicating aroma, the scent of warm skin and a sweet musk. It made her melt inside, made her eyelids droop, so she accepted her fate and rested her head on his shoulder. Loke's chin brushed her head. She could hear the rumple of his breath, and the fluttering beat of his heart. She couldn't even hear the music anymore, couldn't see the people. It was just him. Just Loke all around her, swallowing her whole.

The ballad lasted for only a few minutes. Then Lyra resumed her usual upbeat pop, having made Loke's request as a special favor. The chaotic dancing commenced and the dance floor flooded with people. Loke noticed, but Aries didn't, so he said nothing. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips into her soft wooly hair, taking every piece of her in that he could. No one touched them, no one dared. They left a bubble of solitude for them on the dance floor, a sacred spot of silence and stillness in the whirling vortex of a hurricane.

And together the Lion and the Ram drifted slowly across the constellations.


End file.
